


can i get a kiss (can you make it last forever)

by Talls



Series: aftg au oneshots [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Identity Porn, Insomnia, Lots of Music, M/M, Mutual Pining, Podcaster AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talls/pseuds/Talls
Summary: “I’m obsessive about everything,” Neil protests, sitting in a booth with the four upperclassmen he can stand. “What makes this obsession special?”“Okay, we get the Exy obsession, because you’re legitimately planning on going pro, and we get the Kevin obsession because he’s dedicated to teaching you to go pro, and we even get the Minyard obsession,” Dan says.“Shh,” Neil pleads desperately, hoping beyond hope that nobody heard that.“But the podcast has nothing to do with Exy! It’s half about music, and you don’t even like music that much,” Dan says. “It’s literally just music and a really weird guy talking about his homicidal impulses, and it sorta sounds like a joke, but on a much more real level it sounds like it’s absolutely not a joke and I would call the authorities if this guy gave any personal details at all,” Dan says.“It’s mostly a joke,” Neil offers, but it sounds weak to his own ears.--In which Andrew has a podcast, and Neil falls in love with him twice.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: aftg au oneshots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017799
Comments: 169
Kudos: 1279
Collections: Favorites





	can i get a kiss (can you make it last forever)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back and writing again!! This is something I wanted to post a while back, but school and life intervened, so this quarantine has given me a lot of time to fix this up and post! I hope to get more stuff out soon, but online classes just began for me, so I'm not gonna make any promises. To anyone who still cares about the time traveler story, yes, I will finish it, but this chapter is kinda being a nightmare, so that might not be for a little :/ 
> 
> For this story specifically, massive thanks to adverbialstarlight for betaing, they're so phenomenal at editing and catching my stupid mistakes, and i'm so grateful for them!

“ _~for that reason alone, I will never step foot in a frozen yogurt establishment again. Yes, I know that a pedestrian would call it froyo, but we’re not at nickname status with the devil’s ice cream at Get Off My Yard. Anyways, this has been your favorite and the only segment, Things I Hate, now to sign off with your required listening. This week’s song is SKEDOS by Smino, and if you bring it up at a party, people who care about music will consider respecting you. I’m the Monster. Get off my yard,_ ” the voice in Neil’s headphones drawls, before the outro music plays. Neil finds the song he mentioned on Spotify, lies back against his pillow and closes his eyes. 

Drip like I jumped right off in the lake 

Forgot I can't swim, now I'm stuck, hyperventilate 

// 

All that drip, you drown 

You drip, you drown, you drip 

Then drowned in it 

SKEDOS sounds like someone fighting to stay above the waves. Neil wonders if that’s why the Monster likes it. Wonders if the Monster has had to tread water the way Neil has. He puts the song on loop, and tries desperately to sleep.

*

Neil found Get Off My Yard while scrolling through some advice podcasts on Podbay, after his teammates got on his ass for not having ‘a single hobby, Neil, Jesus Christ’. The image was striking, a generic looking monster sitting on his front porch, smoking a cigarette and brandishing a shotgun. It was eerie and somewhat jarring, but the art had a humor to it, inviting people to laugh at the crotchety old abomination defending his property with a gun and terrorizing local kids. 

The description was designed to discourage. 

**I’m the Monster, and we wouldn’t get along if we met. Listen to me talk about the things I hate, lecture you about music, and exhibit no gratitude for your support. Intro music: Never Die - Jay Taj.**

Honestly, Neil wasn’t that discouraged. This guy offered two things that Neil desperately needed at the time: music recommendations and chatter to fill the void. The first episode started off with no music at all, just someone clearing their throat before talking. 

_“I’m the Monster, and this podcast is not my choice. I was told by someone whose opinion I usually respect to find an outlet for my emotions that wasn’t self-destructive, and one time she confessed that she found podcasts tedious so I’m making her listen to these out of spite. If she is listening right now, I would just like to say, I’m doing this to spite you._

_“However, she had a point. I did need a way to talk about my murderous intent, but I realized that when I spoke to people, it only got worse. In fact, I tried speaking to one of my acquaintances, my roommate of two years, about one of those emotions that I mentioned, and instantaneously, I found myself wanting to murder him 275% more than I already did. It became apparent that I’m very willing to talk to people about my opinions on things, so long as they cannot respond, look at me, be in my presence, breathe my air, et cetera._

_“So. Podcasts. Here’s what you need to know about me to understand the contents of the rest of this podcast. My high school counselor described me as destructive and joyless. That is all._

_“Today, I hate the existence of my roommate. If I wanted a sweaty mess of an animal to drip all over my floors and bark at me to go on walks, I would get a dog. Unfortunately, I can’t get a dog, because my yeti of a roommate has dander allergies and the constitution of a wet paper bag._

_“It occurs to me that when I inevitably snap and kill my roommate, this podcast will be evidence of motive. I am banking on the fact that if these tapes are played in front of a jury, they will empathize with me so much that not only will they acquit me of murder, but they will also give me a medal and a key to the city.”_

Neil really wouldn’t admit it to almost anyone, because the first episode is objectively the worst episode of the series, filled with awkward pauses and clunky exposition, but it’s still his favorite. The episode ended with the recommendation of OutKast’s Hey Ya, because _“if you don’t know this one, you aren’t a human being. Plus they snuck ruthless nihilism in a radio bop, and I respect that, if nothing else_.” 

,If what they say is 

!Nothing lasts forever 

?Then what makes love the exception 

Neil couldn’t tell you. 

*

It’s not a very popular podcast, but it has a cult following in Palmetto, as at one point the Monster revealed he attended school there. Someone distributed the episode where the Monster dissected every single fault of the administration after a scathing review of the school newspaper. It went down as the controversy of the year, and after the ensuing witch hunt to uncover the Monster’s identity bore no fruit, the Monster was elevated to legend in the eyes of most of the student body. The content of the rest of the series was off-putting to a majority of the listeners, but the podcast gained a dedicated following of above a thousand, and that seemed to be enough to sustain the release of new episodes. 

The point is, it isn’t weird for Neil to like this podcast. There’s a lot of people on campus who listen to the podcast. Maybe Neil hasn’t interacted with a single one of them, and maybe people on the Reddit have never mentioned binge-listening to every single episode over the course of one week, and maybe all of them say that they ‘need to take breaks sometimes because he’s so goddamn caustic’, and maybe Neil has never once found it too caustic to listen to, and maybe he needs it to sleep. Neil doesn’t know how he was gonna end this point. 

The point is, Neil isn’t being weird about this. 

*

Neil’s friends on the team give him shit for it sometimes. His obsession with this podcast. 

“I’m obsessive about everything,” Neil protests, sitting in a booth with the four upperclassmen he can stand. “What makes this obsession special?” 

“Okay, we get the Exy obsession, because you’re legitimately planning on going pro, and we get the Kevin obsession because he’s dedicated to teaching you to go pro, and we even get the Minyard obsession,” Dan says. 

“Shh,” Neil pleads desperately, hoping beyond hope that nobody heard that. 

“We even get the Minyard obsession, even though we hate it,” Dan continues, somehow louder than before. 

“We do, we all hate it so much,” Matt interjects.

“We do not all hate it,” Renee cuts in quietly. 

“We mostly hate it,” Allison amends, to Renee’s mild disapproval. 

“If one of you interrupts me again I’m going to shove this french fry up your nose,” Dan says, wielding the aforementioned fry like a deadly weapon. “Again, we even get the Minyard obsession, even though most of us hate it--” 

“Really, if we could keep the whole saying his name to a minimum that would be so helpful--” Neil tries to say, before Dan forcibly tries to stuff her fry into his left nostril. 

“We get it! Because he’s very good at Exy, and sometimes he has very weird intense conversations with you, and for whatever reason you are clearly very into that, but--” 

“I’m literally begging you to stop talking, please, please stop talking,” Neil says, forehead on the slightly sticky cafeteria table. 

“But the podcast has nothing to do with Exy! It’s half about music, and you don’t even like music that much,” Dan says. “It’s literally just music and a really weird guy talking about his homicidal impulses, and it sorta sounds like a joke, but on a much more real level it sounds like it’s absolutely not a joke and I would call the authorities if this guy gave any personal details at all,” Dan says. 

“It’s mostly a joke,” Neil offers, but it sounds weak to his own ears. 

“So yeah, we’re ribbing you, because it’s anomalous,” Dan says. 

“Anomalous? Stats is kicking your ass, huh?” Allison says. 

“Nothing kicks my ass,” Dan responds seriously. “But yes, I am grappling with stats a little bit.” 

“I will tutor you in stats if you drop this forever,” Neil says, forehead still on the table.

“Drop what forever?” asks another voice from right outside of the booth, and yes, actually, this _is_ Neil’s personal hellscape, how did you know? 

“Neil’s obsessive about a podcast and none of us know why,” Matt gleefully tells Aaron Minyard, the most annoying man to walk the Earth, the human equivalent of a horse fly, and the identical twin brother of Andrew Minyard, who is either the love of Neil’s life or the man who kills him. Either way, Neil does not want Aaron to know about the podcast, because it would just be another piece of ammunition that Aaron can load into his spitball straw of a mouth and thwack into Neil’s face. 

“Oh, I love podcasts, they’re like radio for the modern age,” Katelyn says, as if nobody has ever said that before. Neil doesn’t really like Katelyn, but today he’s thrilled she’s there, because at least she’s a mitigating influence on Aaron’s general existence. “Which one are you talking about, maybe I know it.” 

“It’s about a monster with a gun,” Allison says, refusing to look up from her phone. Allison and Aaron exchanged heated words last practice, and Allison has made a point of ignoring him. Neil privately thinks that the silent treatment would work far better if Aaron actually gave a shit about Allison at all, but he knows better than to voice that. 

“Wait,” Aaron deigns to say to the lowlings at the table, “what’s the name of the podcast?” 

“Why do you give a shit?” Neil fires back. Aaron scowls in frustration, but schools his face again. Which is actually very weird, because Aaron always stoops to Neil’s level. 

“Just humor me. What’s the podcast?” Aaron asks, voice strangely intent. The rest of the table seems to pick up on his weird mood change, going quiet. Even Katelyn just looks between the two of them. 

“Get Off My Yard,” Neil admits. “It updates on Tuesdays, and it’s funny and smart, and it has good music so I listen to it, and I don’t know why that’s such a big deal,” Neil says, and now he’s actually kind of upset, because all of them, every single person he’s met at his university has given him shit for not being a human being, for being pop culture illiterate, for not having interests other than Exy, and the second he actually tries to be a person, they’re still on his case. 

That’s the thing, Neil thinks, suddenly furious. Normal people don’t get how easy it is to be normal. Neil just has this team to teach him how to be normal, and sometimes the Monster seems like the only person in the world who gets how hard it is sometimes, who is just as abnormal and who’s struggling just as much and who seems to embrace his abnormality more than Neil could hope to. 

“I listen to that one,” Aaron says, and Neil deflates at the absence of any mockery in his tone. “I actually really like it. I don’t like the music at all, but I like the guy who makes it.” 

“I do too,” Neil says. He eyes Aaron for a second before taking it a step further. “He gets it. How much of all of this is bullshit. It’s rare to find someone who gets it,” Neil admits quietly, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining a new tone to the upperclassmen’s silence. 

Aaron’s eyes are dark and evaluating. “Yeah. When I started listening to it, I started getting it too,” he says. “It’s terrifying.” 

“It’s liberating,” Neil counters. 

“It’s both,” Renee offers, and Neil startles just a little bit at her reentry to the conversation. “For some, the awareness of how little our social norms matter is terrifying because if the things that are supposed to matter do not, what does? For others, that awareness is liberating because so many of those social norms exist to restrain us. And of course, some of us have never known these norms and find comfort in the fact that others don’t know how to be normal either. Awareness is isolating, and knowing that someone out there feels just like me makes me feel less alone,” she says, before stealing one of Allison’s fries. 

“You listen to it too?” Matt asks, somewhat bewildered. 

“On occasion. I find podcasts to be dreadfully tedious, but I do love the music recommendations, and I admit to a soft spot for the creator,” Renee says. 

“You know him? Wait, you said tedious. You’re the person he’s spiting?” Neil says, the question spilling out of him before he can stop it. 

“What?” Aaron asks. 

“It’s a detail in the first episode,” Renee says, narrowing her eyes at Neil. “And one most people don’t know about, because it’s the first episode.” 

“I like the first episode,” Neil says, squirming under her gaze. “I think it has character.” Her eyes narrow even more somehow, before she drops the look and gives him a big smile. 

“It’s my favorite too,” Renee says. 

*

The Minyard Obsession technically runs deeper than Dan or Matt or Allison would suspect. Neil thinks Renee probably knows. After all, she and Andrew are best friends. 

“Am I boring you?” Andrew says, pulling back from where his lips had previously been suctioned onto Neil’s neck, hands moving to all kinds of interesting places. 

“No, sorry,” Neil says, flexing his fingers in Andrew’s hair. “It’s been a long day and I’m kinda tired, that’s all.” Andrew pulls back a little bit, and Neil leans forwards to compensate. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Andrew says. 

“I know, but can we?” Neil asks, propping himself up on his elbows to kiss Andrew’s neck. Andrew’s hands flex on his hips. He leans back in and Neil meets him halfway, biting Andrew’s lower lip lightly. Neil lets himself get lost in the sensation. Andrew’s bed is incredibly soft, and his bulk is warm and comforting on top of Neil’s body, and god, this is the first time he’s relaxed all week, isn’t it? He took two tests and a quiz earlier, only one of which he thinks he did passably on, and Kevin was on his ass all morning and evening practice about his pivot form, which, what does that even mean? Not to mention that Nicky keeps pestering him to hang out more often, which, of course he wants to hang out with Nicky but not if Nicky just wants to talk about--

“Okay, seriously, Neil, you can’t keep spacing out like this,” Andrew says, pulling away entirely this time. Neil lets his head fall back against the mattress in defeat. Andrew is right, as Andrew tends to be. Neil is wiped. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it home, given how exhausted he is. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Neil says, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looks at Andrew, but the stars in his vision blur his view. Andrew moves off of him, but doesn’t get off the bed. Neil knows he has to leave soon, but he thinks Andrew might let him stick around for a little bit longer if he stays quiet. They usually fool around until Andrew gets sick of seeing Neil’s face, at which point he either kicks Neil out or drives Neil back to his dorm, something dark and sultry playing over the car’s supersized speakers. Neil braces himself for Andrew to evict him, but Andrew doesn’t make any move to do so. 

They’re arranged somewhat oddly, Andrew’s arm high up on the pillow, his torso almost curled around Neil’s head. Neil shifts his head to face Andrew and catches him staring down at him, looking almost perplexed. Neil stares back, letting himself drink in the sight. Andrew’s hair is a riot of disarray, and his black tank top is rucked up around his shoulders, exposing a broad swath of his chest. Neil shifts closer without thinking. Andrew doesn’t move backwards. Maybe Andrew is tired too. 

“How was your week?” Neil murmurs. Andrew shrugs half-heartedly. 

“Long,” he offers. Neil nods. It’s quiet. Neil lets his eyes slip closed for a second. He thinks one of Andrew’s hands slips down to play with his hair, but he could be imagining it. He just needs to rest his eyes for a little bit longer, then he’ll be fine.

Neil’s eyes fly open. He raises his hand to his face, where he just registered a sharp flick on the bridge of his nose. 

“Wake up,” Andrew says, grabbing his keys from the nightstand. Neil blinks a few more times before his brain registers the command. It’s dark outside, he notes. 

“What time is it?” Neil asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed to toe into his shoes. 

“Ten thirty-seven,” Andrew reads off his phone screen, before shoving it into his front pocket, the material of his black jeans momentarily tightening around his broad thighs. Neil’s eyes widen against their will. Neil ran here at 5:30, must have passed out sometime around 6. Neil wants to ask why Andrew let him stay here for so long, but he doesn’t want to do or say anything that would jeopardize this happening again, so he keeps his mouth shut and follows Andrew to the car. 

The drive back to the dorm is void of conversation, the speakers thrumming with something off of one of Andrew’s fifty billion playlists. Neil spends the drive staring at Andrew’s profile, the soft golden curls at the nape of his neck, the bump on the bridge of his nose from the time he broke it, the flex of his fingers on the steering wheel as he speeds on the quiet streets. 

The drive is over too fast. Andrew parks in the handicapped spot and turns the music off. The car is suddenly very very quiet. Neil doesn’t move to leave, even though he should. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Neil says, voice too loud in the silent car. Andrew doesn’t respond, staring straight ahead. Neil looks down at his hands. A minute passes. Finally, Neil rouses himself to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“Neil,” Andrew says. Neil freezes, waits. “How do you usually sleep?” The words come out forced and awkward. Neil settles back into the seat. 

“I don’t,” Neil responds honestly. “Sleep, that is. I have paranoia induced insomnia, so I usually only sleep after I’ve physically exhausted myself past the point of standing upright.” 

“So late night practices with Kevin are just sleep aids for you?” Andrew asks, the words coming easier now for some reason. 

“No, late night practices with Kevin are necessary for getting onto Court one day,” Neil says, ignoring Andrew’s reflexive snort of disdain. “The two miles I run afterwards are sleep aids.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Andrew breathes. Neil looks away to smile. Andrew is as much an athlete as Neil, even though he takes no joy in it. Neil watches him during practice, and he has enough stamina to run a marathon, even though he pretends not to. 

“It’s not that bad,” Neil tries. Andrew, predictably, casts a sharp look at him for that. “It’s not. I’m making progress, I think. I used to average about one hour of uninterrupted sleep a night, now I’m at two. I nap during the day sometimes. I slept at your place.” Andrew is silent after that. There’s new tension in his jaw. Neil wonders if he put it there.

“You get a question now,” Andrew finally says. 

“Why did you let me stay?” Neil asks immediately. Andrew inhales sharply, the only indication that the question threw him. He contemplates the question for a few moments. 

“You’re less annoying when you’re asleep,” Andrew finally settles on. “Even with the snoring.” 

“I don’t snore,” Neil squawks. Andrew smirks. 

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so,” Neil responds, indignant now. “I don’t snore.” 

“Get out of my car,” Andrew says, but he’s smiling now, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. Neil acquiesces, unwilling to push his luck right now. Before he shuts the door behind him, he leans back in. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Neil asks. 

“We have practice, don’t we?” Andrew responds, deliberately obtuse. 

“You know what I mean,” Neil pushes. Andrew searches his face for a moment. 

“We’ll see,” Andrew finally says. Neil takes it as the win it is, closing the door, and watching Andrew peel out of the parking lot. 

Matt isn’t in the dorm when Neil gets in, so Neil gets to avoid the, “Where have you been young man, your mother and I were worried sick,” that he always gets whenever he comes home late. Seth hates the routine too, but mostly because he objects to being the mother. Kevin isn’t coming by for night practice tonight, busy with a history assignment he procrastinated, so Neil gets to try and sleep at a reasonable hour for once. 

When he gets out of the shower, there’s a new episode of Get Off My Lawn waiting for him, uploaded sometime between when he got to Andrew’s place and when Andrew drove him home. He curls up in bed, pressing his back to the wall and queueing up the episode. 

_Welcome, jackasses, to another episode of Get Off My Lawn, the only podcast on iTunes that genuinely doesn’t want listeners. I’m furious about all kinds of things today, and I simply cannot wait for my government mandated therapy to vent about it. What do you assholes know about the United States’s intervention in Nicaragua during the Sandinista’s rule?_

Neil is asleep in minutes. 

*

Neil wouldn’t admit it to anyone that isn’t also on the Reddit, but he’s tried a couple times to figure out who the Monster could be based on the few personal details he shares on the podcast. It’s a trying task. First of all, all of the audio is run through a filter that distorts his voice, which serves the dual purpose of making him sound more monstrous and also completely obfuscating his identity. Second of all, the Monster doesn’t use any names on the podcast, referring to everyone in his life as a broader archetype designed to reveal as little personal information as possible. 

There’s the Roommate, of course, who shows up regularly in anecdotes and rants as a self-righteous nerd and health nut who seems to live to make the Monster’s life worse. One of Neil’s favorite episodes involves a ten minute rant about the Roommate hiding all of the Monster’s candy, and the Monster’s subsequent revenge of putting powdered laxatives in all of the Roommate’s protein powder. 

There’s the Busy Bee, who seems to serve as the Monster’s conscience, and the Bartender who functionally enables all of the Monster’s more self-serving and hedonistic impulses. Despite the Monster’s derogatory words about both characters, it’s clear that he values their input and integrates it into his life. 

One of the odder characters is the Mirror, who the Monster has long, involved, and deeply vitriolic conversations with, as he plays both sides. The conversations are usually the most raw and involved parts of the podcast, but even though each conversation usually ends with a threat to break the mirror and shatter the reflection, the Monster always admits that he couldn’t manage without it. Neil personally thinks the Mirror makes shitty points and fails to understand the Monster’s motivations, but it’s not like anyone on Reddit cares. 

The most important character, in Neil’s humble opinion, is the Jock. Oh, the Jock. His first appearance on the show came before Neil even started listening to the show, sometime at the beginning of the year, ending an episode rife with frustrations.

_“As a closer, today I met the most annoying person in the world. Henceforth, he shall be named the Jock, because that seems to be the depth and breadth of his character. He has shifty eyes, dangerous thighs, and teeny-tiny running shorts. He doesn’t seem to be a dullard, but he gives every impression of being an asshole. He contradicts himself constantly, speaks more than one language, and carries himself like a martian. I can’t tell if I want to kill him or kiss him senseless._

_This week’s required listening is Temptation by Joey Bada$$, for what I would consider obvious reasons. I’m the Monster, get off my yard.”_

This just the way I feel 

Mind's been racing so long, yeah 

It's just no way to deal 

With these problems alone 

And I really can't take it no more 

I've been fighting temptations, my Lord 

That was the beginning of Neil's favorite ongoing theme in the podcast. Neil doesn’t know what exactly it is that appeals to him so much about the Monster talking about the Jock, but he can’t get enough of it. Maybe it’s because Neil likes the idea of the Monster feeling this way about anybody, maybe it’s because Neil thinks he might be the Monster’s type, maybe it’s just the idea that someone like the Monster could want someone like Neil. 

He doesn’t think he’s exactly like the Jock, of course. The Jock is probably attractive and unscarred and a solid foot taller. Still, though. It’s nice to imagine that the Monster is talking about him. That the Monster could be talking about him. 

He wonders sometimes. Of course he wonders. It would be ridiculous if he didn’t wonder at least once, what it would be like to meet the Monster. 

He’s probably the podcast’s biggest fan, definitely the most active one on the Reddit, to everyone else’s chagrin. Maybe one day the Monster would see his posts, and realize they were more alike than not, and maybe the Monster would reach out, get a coffee with him, maybe even offer a guest spot on the show-- 

These are pipe dreams, obviously. And of course, every time he tries to imagine what the Monster could look like, it’s difficult to fill in the picture. But still. Neil knows to his bones that if they sat and talked, the Monster would recognize something in Neil. The monster within them both. 

Then again, Neil disappoints a lot of people when they get to know him. People tend to think his scarred face and moody aura are a sign of an interesting and mysterious individual, instead of a trauma survivor with paranoia and baggage. Maybe even the Monster would be scared off by the magnitude of Neil’s issues, maybe Neil is so abnormal that even monsters would be put off. 

Maybe. 

Still. Neil can’t help but imagine all the things he would say, all the ways he would thank the Monster for being the only grip he has on sanity some days, all the ways he would listen to the Monster rant and support him and--

At this point in the fantasy, Neil starts thinking about Andrew, and feels very very odd. The fantasy usually ends right after. 

*

This whole thing with Andrew started back in the first semester of his freshman year, right after his father’s trial. Kevin had kept tabs on the trial as it happened, and as soon as Neil was freed from witness protection, he made an appeal to Wymack to get him on the team, out of a mixture of survivor’s guilt and genuine understanding. Wymack, a sucker for a sob story, agreed almost immediately, and Neil moved from Maryland to South Carolina, with no social skills, no friends, and many reservations. 

Adjusting to the team was difficult at first, but Kevin threw himself into making Neil’s environment a safe one. Under Kevin’s aegis, Neil eventually made some acquaintances on the team, even a few friends, and began to cobble together a life, patchwork and shoddy, but a life nonetheless. 

Neil’s athletic performance was a different story altogether. Kevin got him onto the team, but Neil had to prove himself there. Even though the Foxes were dysfunctional, they were still lightyears ahead of him in terms of sheer athletic ability. To keep Neil on the team, Kevin began to invite Neil to his night practices, which would qualify as cruel and unusual punishment to really any jury. Kevin was a sadistic taskmaster with a grueling training regimen and a perfectionist’s eye. 

Neil, however, was an Exy addict with poor coping mechanisms, chronic insomnia, and an excess of stamina. Practices with Kevin weren’t hell for him -- how could they be, when only a month before, he had sat across a courtroom from his father and testified against him, stripped his clothes from his body so the jury could see the scars. In fact, the practices ended up being the highlights of Neil’s week. 

Kevin, upon realizing that he had stumbled upon his Exy soulmate, began taking Neil home for strategy sessions. 

And that’s where Neil met Andrew. 

He had seen Andrew before in practice obviously, but they hadn’t really interacted that much, as Neil spent most of his time running drills with Kevin, Seth and Janey. He knew Andrew was a demon in the goal when he wanted to be, and he knew he lived with Kevin, but Andrew mostly kept to himself and his family, barely sparing Neil a glance. Neil knew he deserved it, with his scarred face and sub-par Exy skills, but a small part of him kept wondering what it would take to make Andrew look at him. 

Apparently what that took was a full-blown panic attack in Kevin’s apartment. 

Kevin had been taking Neil to his place for strategy sessions for a week at that point, and Andrew had been home every time, either eating truly exorbitant amounts of ice cream or smoking silently on the balcony. He never interacted with them, sparing them only the most contemptuous of looks for discussing Exy in their off hours, and Neil was okay with that, content to park himself next to Kevin and discuss Exy for as long as Kevin could stay awake. 

One night, Kevin passed out early, and Neil left his bedroom to find Andrew channel surfing in the common area. Neil watched for exactly two seconds before being confronted with his own face at age nine. It was a true crime expose, unpacking the details of the Butcher’s court case and conviction. In the photo, Neil was staring soberly at a camera, holding his mother’s hand. The narration continued on screen. 

_“Nathaniel Wesninski, depicted here, went on to testify in court about his father’s extensive criminal empire and physical abuse. Mary Wesninski, née Hatford, suspected to have criminal ties in Europe, was killed before she could testify. The perpetrator, Romero Malcom, one of Nathan’s top enforcers, gained access to her and Nathaniel’s safe house thanks to a leak in the Witness Protection Program. However, through an astonishing feat of strength and desperation, Nathaniel was able to defend himself from Malcolm long enough for the U.S Marshals to subdue him, though not without suffering severe injuries himself.”_

The image on the screen switched to Neil in court, the new scarring prominent on his face and arms. 

_“Nathaniel’s testimony ended up being the lynchpin of the investigation, enabling prosecutors to successfully seek the death penalty--”_

At that point, Neil stopped registering sound and images, so he couldn’t tell you how Dateline ended the story. Instead there was Romero, advancing on him with a knife out, already bloody from the brutality he had inflicted on what was now his mother’s corpse. There was the sharp smell of iron in the air, in his mouth, and there was cold steel against his cheek as he flailed, desperate to escape, desperate to survive. 

“Neil,” a voice said, but Neil didn’t exist, there was only Nathaniel and pain and--

A glass of water splashed into Neil’s face. 

“Gah, fuck,” Neil gasped. And then there was Andrew in front of him, holding a small cup. 

“Are you back in the land of the living?” Andrew asked, his blonde hair like a halo in the dim light from the kitchen. The TV was off, and the only sound in the apartment was the whirring of the AC, and Neil’s heaving breaths. 

“Yeah,” Neil said, barely sure of his own answer. “I gotta get home,” he tried, but Andrew disregarded him entirely. 

“Get up,” Andrew said, gesturing to the balcony with a sharp head movement. Neil went. Andrew joined him in a minute a carton of cigarettes in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He handed Neil the glass of water. “Drink.” 

There was silence on the balcony. It was late, and there wasn’t any activity on the street below. Andrew grabbed a lighter from his pocket and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling deeply. The smoke filled the air, and Neil inhaled. His mother had smoked, as a small guilty pleasure in Witsec. She tried to hide it from him so as not to ruin his developing lungs, but Neil still vividly remembered those nights she would stand on the back porch of their safehouse in Arizona, smoking cigarettes and listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers Pandora radio on her busted iTouch. 

They sat for an hour, Neil slowly sipping his water and regaining the ability to breathe. Andrew pulled out his phone at the fifteen minute mark, and played something soft and dark, and Neil tried to wrap himself in the warm blackness of the night, the crooning voice emanating from the phone’s speakers, Andrew’s quiet presence at his side. 

Andrew broke the silence long after Neil’s breathing had stabilized. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said, his words somehow not breaking the spell Neil was under. 

“I didn’t think you would,” Neil responded, surprised at himself. He didn’t know why he had immediately trusted Andrew like that, but he didn’t have the energy to question his own impulse. 

“And I owe you,” Andrew continued, as if Neil hadn’t spoken. “You get exactly three questions.” Neil considered it. He was very curious about Andrew, about his apathy, about his insane athletic ability, about his relationship with Kevin, about his relationship with his family, about his past, about everything -- but at that moment, on that quiet balcony, Neil couldn’t think of a single question. 

All he could think was that Andrew was really very handsome from certain angles. 

“Can I save them?” Neil asked. Andrew looked at him then, really looked at him, and Neil didn’t remember the last time he felt so seen. It should have been terrifying to have that focus leveled on him, but under that spell, on that balcony, Neil just felt safe. Andrew nodded once, and stood up. Neil followed suit. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Andrew said, and he did. 

The next time Neil went to Kevin’s for strategy sessions, he stayed for an hour talking to Andrew on the balcony, and the next time he did the same, over and over. 

One night, Andrew pressed Neil up against the sliding glass of the balcony and asked him a yes or no question, and Neil said yes, letting himself get lost in Andrew, in his arms, his hands, his lips. 

That night, so wired he was incapable of sleeping, Neil finally took his teammates’ advice about getting a hobby, and scrolled through some advice podcasts on Podbay, where he found an interesting looking one about music. 

It was an important night. 

*

The next few times Andrew invites Neil over, Neil tries his best to stay as awake and present as possible. He’s started sleeping better anyways, especially now that the Monster’s music recommendations have switched from hip hop bangers to r&b crooners. Neil spent an entire week exclusively listening to Bad Religion and Nights by Frank Ocean after they were the required listening for a special double event, because " _Frank is like a Lays potato chip, you can’t just have one."_

I swear I've got three lives 

Balanced on my head like steak knives 

I can't tell you the truth about my disguise 

I can’t trust no one 

// 

If it brings me to my knees 

It's a bad religion 

  
  


Although you got beaucoup family 

You don't even got nobody bein' honest with you 

Breathe 'til I evaporated 

My whole body see through 

// 

This feel like a quaalude 

No sleep in my body 

Andrew doesn’t act differently at all, still mocks Neil for his Exy obsession, still flicks Lucky Charms pieces at Neil’s head when he wants attention, still kisses Neil with the same fire as the first time they ever touched. But he also begins to let him stay later after they’ve finished fooling around. He queues comedy specials on Kevin’s Netflix account, or thrashes Neil on Kevin’s Street Fighter, even orders pizzas with Kevin’s credit card and splits it with Neil over Kevin’s terrible hard seltzers. 

It’s nice, Neil thinks, to spend time quietly with Andrew. He still loves it when Andrew pins him down and drives him crazy, but there’s a new intimacy in enjoying his company for the sake of it, and Neil is rapidly becoming obsessed with that too. They’ve talked through so many of their respective traumas that now they can talk about literally anything else, and the transition is a soothing one. 

Neil thinks that he might be growing into himself. Andrew might be doing the same thing. Healing looks strange from the inside, but they seem to be doing that together. 

Still though, there are always bad weeks, even though they come less frequently. Neil has significantly improved as a striker since he started with the Foxes, now skilled enough to be a real contender for the starting line, but he has a lot of work to do before he can come close to even Seth’s skill. As the season heats up and midterm season kicks in, Neil spends more and more time working or in practices. His sleep schedule, already inconsistent and weird, goes even more haywire. 

Neil is at the end of his rope one week when Andrew invites him over. Neil tries some jumping jacks in the hallway in front of Andrew’s apartment to wake himself up, but he’s fighting a losing battle and he knows it. 

The door opens, and Andrew is there. Neil’s shoulders automatically loosen, tension he hadn’t even noticed slipping away. 

“Hi,” Neil says, an involuntary smile crossing his face. Andrew doesn’t respond, just stares him with shrewd eyes. Neil submits to the scrutiny silently. 

“Come in,” Andrew finally says, holding the door open for him. Kevin is in class, and the apartment is quiet. “I have to send a few emails to my presentation group for Philosophy of Law, so you’ll have to wait for a minute.” 

“No worries,” Neil says, toeing off his shoes and sitting down on Andrew’s bed. Kevin has been on an essential oils kick recently, and the whole apartment smells like sandalwood, warm and smoky. Andrew sits at his desk and begins typing in a hypnotic rhythm. Neil adjusts so he can sit up against the headboard. Andrew keeps typing away at the laptop. Neil’s eyelids grow heavy. It’s been a very long week. 

“You can use the blanket at the end of the bed if you’re cold, Kevin’s trying some new bullshit with experimental temperatures,” Andrew says without turning around. Neil considers it for a second before he leans forward and snags the blanket. It’s incredibly soft, fleecy on one side and plush on the other. Neil slides forward a bit so he can lie down, head cradled on the pillow. It smells like Andrew and citrus shampoo. Neil closes his eyes again. He thinks he hears a muttered, “so easy,” right before he falls asleep, but he might have just imagined that. 

When he wakes up, Andrew is sitting next to him on the bed, playing Clash of Clans on his phone. 

“You definitely snore,” Andrew says as soon as he notices Neil is awake. 

“I do not snore,” Neil grumbles, flopping over until he can see Andrew. “What time is it?” 

“5:00 AM, you slept the night,” Andrew says. Neil shoots straight up, limbs tangled in the blanket. 

“What?” he yelps. 

“No, I’m just fucking with you, it’s ten,” Andrew says without looking away from his screen. Neil blinks blearily. 

“Fuck you,” Neil mutters, before tucking himself back next to Andrew. He looks at the screen. “Who attacked you?” 

“Nicky,” Andrew grouses. “He’s better than me too, which is personally unbearable.” He looks at Neil. “I’ll take you home when I’m done.” 

“We didn’t even get to kiss,” Neil whines. Andrew rolls his eyes and pecks him quickly before looking back at his screen. Neil tries and fails to suppress his smile as he stares at Andrew’s focused profile. 

The next time Neil shows up, Andrew pulls the same routine, tucking Neil in and then ignoring him long enough for Neil to fall asleep. Neil tries to stay up, but he’s too desperate for sleep to manage it. Andrew doesn’t protest, just spends a little time with him in bed playing games on his phone until he decides to take Neil home. 

Neil can’t deny that it’s helping. He feels less likely to pass out every waking second, and his mood is definitely improving too, though that might just be prolonged exposure to Andrew. 

They don’t see each other for the rest of the week, as the Foxes gear up for the game that weekend, and Kevin ups the frequency of extra practices. That Saturday, Neil scores four goals and sleeps the sleep of a champion. Kevin throws his arms around him in the post-game celebration and invites him to do shots together until Andrew drives them to the apartment and dumps them unceremoniously on Kevin’s bed.

Sunday morning has Neil waking up with a splitting headache and numb legs from where Kevin is sleeping on top of him. Kevin wakes up after Neil kicks him off. 

“Fuck off, you tiny bastard,” Kevin groans, attempting to clutch his ribs and his head at the same time. Neil kicks him again and Kevin slaps his shin hard enough to sting. 

“Shots were your fucking idea, baby genius, get up and make me breakfast,” Neil fires back, throwing a pillow at his prone body. 

“Your father’s worst crime was fucking creating you,” Kevin growls, getting up and bulleting the pillow back at Neil’s head. He goes to the bathroom and gargles with mouthwash before screwing the top back on and tossing it on Neil’s stomach. 

“Yeah, you saved my life and now you get to figure out why he tried to fucking kill me,” Neil bites out. Kevin barks a laugh at that and then whines like a dog. 

“Don’t make me laugh. Also, shut the fuck up, we have to be quiet,” he says, scratching his stomach and heading into the kitchen. Neil takes a swig of mouthwash, spitting it into Kevin’s sink before following him out. This headache is killing him, but at least the taste in his mouth is gone. 

“Why?” Neil says, following Kevin out. 

“Andrew’s recording,” Kevin says, grabbing some cereal out of the pantry and pouring it into a bowl, wincing at the noise of the flakes falling. “He always records Sunday morning so he can edit Monday and release on Tuesday.” He holds out the box of Corn Flakes to Neil. 

“Corn Flakes?” Neil reads out questioningly. “This is decadent for you, Kevin. Where’s the lean granola shit?” 

“It’s a hangover, I’m allowed to indulge,” Kevin defends. Neil blinks at him. “What?” 

“You live a sad and upsetting life,” Neil says, staring at what Kevin considers an indulgence. 

“You’re one to fucking talk,” Kevin scoffs. He takes a bite of his cereal, dry, because he’s an animal. 

“What is Andrew recording?” Neil asks, getting to the real point of inquiry. 

“Podcast,” Kevin grunts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Shit, I forgot to charge my phone,” he grumbles. Neil suddenly feels very unsteady, like he’s on the precipice of some grand peak. 

“Andrew has a podcast?” Neil asks. Kevin looks up, confused. 

“You didn’t know? I thought he would have told you, of all people. I’ve never listened to it, but it’s supposed to be good. I just don’t really give a shit about music, and that’s apparently all he talks about.” 

At that moment the door to Andrew’s room opens. 

“All clear,” he says, walking into the kitchen. He looks at Kevin’s meal. “Corn Flakes, Kevin? What about your girlish figure?” 

“You two are dicks and you deserve each other,” Kevin says, standing up and taking his bowl into his room. Neil doesn’t speak, staring at Andrew. It can’t be true. But then again, too much is making sense. 

“Kevin was just telling me about your podcast,” Neil says. Andrew freezes but shakes off whatever seized him, grabbing the Lucky Charms and taking the whole box straight to his room. Neil follows. 

“What about it?” Andrew asks, taking a microphone off his desk and unplugging it, storing it in the closet. 

“He said it’s pretty good?” Neil asks, just to confirm his suspicions, but he has a very specific feeling in his gut. He’s not wrong. 

“He wouldn’t know, he’s never listened to an episode in his life,” Andrew says dismissively. “Which is good, because I spend most of it bitching about him. Well, bitching about everything, but especially him. Bee thinks it’s good for my mental health to outlet my annoyance with him in a way that isn’t physical violence.” 

“Oh my god,” Neil breathes. Even Andrew’s nickname for the team shrink was a clue. Neil feels very stupid. Andrew turns, concern writ large on his face. “Monster,” Neil says. Andrew wrinkles his face, bewildered.

“Did you just call me a monster because I make fun of Kevin? Because I wouldn’t throw stones in that particular glass house,” Andrew says, blandly amused. 

“Not _a_ monster,” Neil corrects. “The Monster.” The confusion lingers on Andrew’s face until it drops. He freezes, a hunted look on his face. 

“You know about Get Off My Yard?” Andrew asks with clear apprehension. 

“Do I know about Get Off My Yard?” Neil asks, incredulous. “Do _I_ know about Get Off My Yard? Andrew, your podcast is my only interest. I can’t sleep without it. I’ve literally dreamed of his moment. I’m your biggest fan. I carry the Reddit on my back,” Neil says, picking up steam as his mind catches up with the situation. Andrew is the Monster. He’s been the Monster the whole time. Oh God, why is that so hot? 

“Wait, are you exyluvr19?” Andrew asks, a crazed look crossing his face. 

“You’ve seen my posts?” Neil asks, delighted. Neil watches horrified realization dawn on Andrew. 

“You are an insane person. Nobody likes my podcast that much. Not even I like my podcast that much,” Andrew hisses. 

“Well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste,” Neil fires back, and Andrew doesn’t respond, doesn’t seem able to. He keeps looking Neil up and down, as if Neil suddenly sprouted wings in front of him. “Wait, okay, so Dobson is the Busy Bee, Kevin is the Roommate, that must mean Aaron is the mirror, which, wow I really should have seen this coming,” Neil says, working through his thought process. 

“Wait, Neil,” Andrew says, his voice suddenly very tight.

“I still have no idea who the bartender is, but I already knew Renee was the friend from the first episode--” 

“You listened to the first episode?” Andrew interjects, surprise coloring his words. He looks kind of vulnerable for a second, and Neil’s heart skips a beat at this new expression on Andrew’s strong features. 

“Yeah, it’s my favorite one. It’s less polished than the others, it feels more personal. Speaking of which,” and Neil watches genuine terror enter Andrew’s eyes, right before it gets snuffed out by a kind of grim resignation, “who’s the Jock?” 

Andrew winces a little bit before straightening up, as if he was expecting a blow that never came. “What?” he asks, genuinely confused. 

“Who’s the Jock?” Neil asks, and now he’s starting to get a little bit upset, because he thought that maybe all of the ‘we are nothing’ stuff that Andrew always said was just a front, and maybe they were getting closer to each other, and maybe this was going to become something that meant something to both of them, but if Andrew’s been pining for some hot jock this whole time, then Neil’s going to have to do some serious wound-licking by himself for a while and--

Andrew is staring at him with his “Jesus Christ Neil, I cannot believe that a human being can be this stupid,” face on and why would he be wearing that face, Neil had a real question there! Who could the Jock possibly be, Andrew spends all his free time with Neil--

Oh. 

“Oh,” Neil says, gobsmacked. Andrew puts one hand on his head and rubs at his temples. “Oh,” he repeats, a grin spreading over his face and taking over his entire body. He suddenly feels very warm, and there’s a giddy feeling rising in his chest and, wow. 

Andrew puts the other hand on his face. Neil steps forwards, and lightly touches Andrew’s wrist. Andrew drops it reluctantly. 

“Hi,” Neil whispers, his whole face probably lit up. Andrew looks helplessly up at him. 

“Hi,” Andrew sighs, and Neil leans in to kiss his celebrity crush. 

*

Andrew puts up a token protest for maybe a second before agreeing to be Neil’s boyfriend. He probably could have held out longer, but a publicly accessible backlog on iTunes of every single pining thought he’s ever had about Neil and his personality and his thighs makes it difficult to argue that he doesn’t want Neil just as much as Neil wants him. 

Kevin has known about them the entire time, a natural function of living with one of them and being the other’s best friend, but their relationship has always been intensely private. They decide not to tell anyone, but not to keep it a secret either. 

“After all,” Andrew says, “I wanna see how long these simpletons make fun of us for still pining after each other.” 

“Were you also getting shit for it, because I got a lot of shit for it,” Neil asks, delighted that he has someone to share this injustice with. 

“I got shit for it exactly once,” Andrew responds in a grim voice, and Neil laughs. 

Neil asks to be put on the show while Andrew is in a very agreeable mood, and Andrew acquiesces with rare grace. Andrew introduces him in a new segment, Jock Talk, where he and Neil bitch about Kevin together. Andrew almost cackles a couple times in the recording, and Neil at one point laughs so hard he almost cries. The second Andrew finishes recording and says yes, Neil jumps him so clumsily that they knock over both of their chairs and Kevin bangs on the door to get them to shut up. 

He spends the night more often than not with Andrew, and gets more sleep than ever before. From that very first night on the balcony, Andrew has always projected a sense of safety, and Neil’s subconscious recognizes that even in sleep. Some nights Neil doesn’t even have nightmares, just bizarre dreams about ice cream and frogs and tame monsters with soft golden fur. 

Of course, there are still the nights when he takes hours to sleep. There are even more when he wakes up in a cold sweat, paralyzed with fear. Sometimes Andrew won’t wake up and Neil will pull out his headphones and listen to Get Off My Yard until his alarm goes off. Other nights, Andrew is already awake on the balcony, and Neil will grab a blanket and follow him out, curling into him and wrapping them up as Andrew chain smokes his fears away. And some nights, some rare beautiful nights, Andrew will wake up and hold Neil and murmur nonsense about his dreams, and Neil will fall asleep with his ear to Andrew’s chest, lulled by the soft rumble of Andrew’s voice. 

* 

_“This has been Jock Talk, where I talk to the Jock. Jock, do you have anything you want to say to the seven listeners who made it through your obnoxious presence and useless words?”_

_*in a chipmunk voice* “Yeah, I just want to say I’m a long time listener, first-time caller and I’m so glad to be here, it’s been a dream of mine since before I was born. Also, I’m sorry if the Monster gave me some ridiculous and unbearable voice.”_

_“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Since we’re closing the episode, why don’t you give our three listeners the required listening?”_

_“I would love to do this thing for all two of them. This week’s required listening is Forrest Gump by Frank Ocean, because it’s a song about being in love with an oblivious jock, and that’s a beautiful thing.”_

_“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met and I despise everything about you. On that note, I am the Monster,”_

_“And I’m the Jock,”_

_“Get off our yard.”_

My fingertips and my lips 

They burn from the cigarettes 

Forrest Gump 

You run my mind, boy 

Running on my mind, boy 

// 

You're so buff and so strong 

I'm nervous, Forrest 

// 

If this is love, I know it's true 

I won't forget you 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! if you want to hear more of this Andrew's music reccomendations, [ here ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6n9x8S0qD2q1bpkcma7sbY?si=VUAjU4IsRRy5xejx4utO1A) is a link to a playlist full of not only the music in this fic, but other songs I think Andrew would like :0
> 
> As always, kudos and comments propel me into getting more writing done, and I love to hear what people liked or if they were curious about any part of writing this! Thank you for reading :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] can i get a kiss (can you make it last forever)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079137) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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